One Call Away
by orangesunset12
Summary: "What's this?" Bruce laughed at Dick's question. "It's your own phone, Dickie. So that no matter the distance between us, you'll always have a way to find me." Thing was, always is a long time.


An excited gasp filled the ornate halls of Wayne Manor.

It was the first week of Dick's newly found guardianship, and it was time for a tour around the Manor. The boy had spent the entire day touching things, nearly touching things, trying not to touch things and devouring the snacks that Alfred left him occasionally.

Bruce's lip curled as he thought of the previous week- the papers, the paparazzi, the nightmares that plagued the child even in waking hours. If only it were as simple as Bruce loving Dick and Dick loving Bruce and that being that.

A tug on his sleeve pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Dick? What is it?"

Dick pointed to the telephone on the table. "What's that?"

Despite himself, Bruce chuckled. "That is a telephone. Do you know what it does?"

"Pop- Mr. Haly told me," he said, nodding eagerly. "It lets you talk to people far away."

He moved closer to inspect it, wavering his hand an inch above the buttons. At a nod from Bruce he ran his hand over it, delighting in the foreign touch. He blushed as he noticed his guardian staring at him.

"I've never seen one before," he explained. "I guess... I'd never known anyone outside the circus, and we were never... far away..."

A sniffling sound indicated the immediate threat of tears, and Bruce instinctively gathered the 8-year-old into his arms. He hated being reminded that he'd never be able to always be there for Dick, not like his parents were, or the circus. He was Bruce Wayne- more importantly, he was Batman.

How could he bring a child into this?

"How does it work?"

"Oh- I'm guessing you don't mean the mechanics. Well, you input someone's number, and then you talk to them."

"Wow," Dick breathed. "So if I input your number anywhere, I can talk to you?"

"Yep." Suddenly, Bruce had an idea. He pulled an old phone out of his pocket, stroking it with his thumb. The engraved T.W was written in a flourishing script.

Dick peered at it curiously.

"What's this?"

Bruce laughed at Dick's question.

"It... it's my very special phone. And now it's your own phone, Dickie. So that no matter the distance between us, you'll always have a way to find me."

Dick took it, eyes shining. "Is it really for me?"

"Really," Bruce confirmed.

Dick let out a squeal of happiness and ran around the Manor, bumping into Alfred in the process.

"Oh, Alfred, look!" he grinned excitedly. "I got a very special phone!"

Bruce folded his arms, smiling.

It was the beginning of a new adventure.

* * *

Commissioner Gordon stood on the rooftops, hands rubbing together for warmth. His breaths made white clouds against the glittering dark.

Batman stood, arms crossed, facing him. The wind blew at his cape, sending it fluttering like big black wings.

Gordon would've been lying if he said it didn't send a chill down his spine.

"Mission, Gordon," Batman growled.

"Right. Well, there have been reports-"

A phone rang, interrupting their conversation. Commissioner Gordon instinctively put his hand on his own phone, before seeing Batman take out a cell phone and pressing a button.

Gordon thought about asking for his number, but he was sure he wouldn't get it anyway. (That meant more nights standing by a giant floodlight praying he'd show up before 3 a.m. Great.)

"I can't speak right now," Batman spoke into the phone. Gordon noticed with mild amusement that he dropped his weird gargly voice.

Without it, Gordon could almost believe he was just a man.

"I'm busy." Pause. "Yes, at work. No, you are not coming out here, you still haven't- no! Don't touch the spare Batsuit! Agent A is working on your costume- no, I told you you have to wear the pants- no cookies!"

Straining his ears, Gordon could almost hear the whiny voice of a child on the other end. He didn't actually need to hear it, of course.

He could recognise a father when he saw one.

Perhaps- and this was a very big perhaps- he could question the ethics of a man like him raising a child. There was no security, and if his ears didn't deceive him he was planning on taking a child out here. Perhaps Gordon could ask him to think twice about it.

But- and this was a very big but- Gordon knew that Batman thought about things a lot more than others, and if he was taking a child out here then there probably is a darn good reason for it.

And if they loved each other, then who was he to judge?

"Go to bed," Batman sighed. "Yes. No. Don't go near there! I've told you before, staircases are for walking only. Chandelier- don't! Okay, alright, good. Okay. Goodnight."

Then, suddenly, his face softened.

"I will come home. Promise."

Gordon smiled as Batman hung up.

"Sorry for the interruption, Commissioner," he said roughly.

"It's fine," Gordon said knowingly. "There's a robbery down at Main Street. Reports say Penguin is involved, but, no evidence yet."

He suddenly paused. "You know, you should probably be careful. Children take their promises very seriously."

For a moment, Batman said nothing. Then his mouth twitched. A smile.

"So do I," he replied, taking out his grappling hook.

He blasted off and disappeared into the night.

* * *

"Shh!"

Barbara crossed her arms and pouted. "Why can't I do it?"

"Do you want him to kill you?"

She shrugged, then leaned against the crumbling wall. A mop fell against her shoulder.

The janitor's closet smelled of mustard and onions, which was probably an indication of the janitor's dietary habits. Dust spiralled through the air in frantic swirls, landing on the brooms and mops that lined the walls. A bucket of water sat by Dick's shoulder.

It may not have been the most pleasant place, but it beat assemblies any day.

"Okay, okay, I'm dialling!"

They shared a conspiratorial look before bursting into a fit of giggles, only stifled by putting their hands in their mouths.

"Hello?" came the smooth voice of Bruce Wayne down the line.

"Hello," Dick giggled. "Is- is your refrigerator running?"

There was silence. And then-

"Richard. John. Grayson. Get back to your assembly right now."

"How did you know?" he whined. "How do you always know?"

"You don't even disguise your voice," Bruce grunted.

"Yeah well, unlike some people, I like my voice." He paused. "Besides, the only person in the world who could recognise my voice is you, and it's not like I'd ever hide from you."

"Stop stalling. Go back to assembly. And, tell your friend Barbara to head there as well before I call her father."

Barbara paled considerably. "Oh- uh- I have to go, Dick, see you there!" She grabbed her satchel and raced down the hallway, voice echoing back to the closet.

Dick huffed. "You just had to scare away my only friend."

The words 'only friend' floated down the line for a long time, and there was silence for a while.

"If you're skipping assembly, might as well do it for a good reason. Like studying for your English exam tomorrow."

"How did you- oh, never mind. I hate English, you know that! What is the point of studying anyway? I'll fail no matter what," Dick groaned moodily.

"...If you score at least 90 percent, I'll buy you something."

A huff. "Oh, you're bribing me now?"

"This is important." Bruce sighed, and Dick could imagine him rubbing his face. "Dick Grayson is just as important as Robin, you know. Don't forget that, like..."

Like Bruce did. Dick gulped.

"So... I can buy anything I want, right?"

"Right. Anything."

Dick smiled. "How 'bout a lunchtime? Just you and me?"

"...Alright." Dick could almost hear the smile. "90 percent or above, remember?"

"Yeah, okay- I gotta go now."

"Bye, Dick."

"Goodbye, Bruce," he grinned, hanging up.

He had a test to ace.

* * *

Bruce tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. The Manor was unusually quiet, Dick being out 'doing totally okay no-Batman-scowling things' with Wally West. Bruce had been in the process of creepily stalking that West boy on social media before he felt something weird inside him, and had decided to call.

Three calls later, however, there was still no response.

He was just about to go full Batman-scowling mode before there was a reply. Bruce almost burst with relief.

"Dick I've been trying to call you all day what on Earth happened-"

"Whoa, Bruce, sorry!" There was a little bit of giggling on the other end. "Yeah, it's Bruce. Would you please be quiet?"

"Richard. Explain," Bruce growled.

"Sorry, Wally was carrying me in super-speed, and well it's a bad idea I think to answer a call in super-speed? I don't know if there's reception-"

"There is," another voice called. West. "Uncle Barry does it all the time!"

Bruce pinched his nose. Great, just what he needed- two hyperactive teenaged boys.

"Anyway, you need something?"

Bruce blinked. "No. Why?"

"Well, you called. You never call unless you need something."

The weird feeling came back again, stronger. "I... I just wanted to check if you were okay."

"I'm fine, B. Ouch! Wally, stop it!" Some shuffling sounds and a loud 'Ow!' from the other line later, Dick resumed talking. "Oh, and can I stay at Wally's house tonight? I promise we won't blow up the supermarket or the couch or the bed! So, can I? Pleeeaaaassseeee?"

"You're... not coming back tonight?"

"Oh, I'm sorry about patrol, but Batman can do without Robin for a night, can't he?"

The clock ticked softly in the silence of indecision. "...Of course. Y-yes. Of course you can go, if you be careful."

"I will be!" Dick cheered gleefully. "Wally, he said yes!" A faint cheer echoed.

Bruce set the phone down after they said their goodbyes, and put his head in his hands. It was this feeling...

Like he was losing something. Something important.

He just couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Sir? Something wrong?"

Bruce looked up at Alfred. "Oh. No, nothing's wrong. Dick's not going to be here tonight, so, I guess I'll be patrolling alone."

Alfred shot him a look of understanding. "You know, Master Bruce, he will come back."

"Yeah. I know..." Bruce sighed. "Am I losing him, Alfred?"

"If you count him growing up as losing him, then yes, I am afraid you are losing him quite fast," Alfred replied drily.

"Very funny, Alfred," Bruce retorted. "But then... why does it feel like I'm losing him?"

Alfred set his cloth down and pressed his hands together. For the first time, Bruce wondered how Alfred felt when he'd put the cowl on. When he'd abandoned Bruce Wayne for Batman.

Hadn't Alfred lost him too?

"There will come a time, Master Bruce, when Master Richard will no longer need you," Alfred said slowly. "But I do not think there will ever be a time when he no longer wants you. And as long as he wants you, there is no chance that you will ever truly lose him."

* * *

Dick lay back on the couch, humming contentedly. The T.V in front of him buzzed with soft noise.

He reached down for the bowl of popcorn- precariously placed at the edge of the table- when a red gloved hand stopped him.

Dick groaned. "Wally, you've eaten literally all the other snacks!"

"What can I say? I'm a growing speedster," he defended.

Donna clucked her tongue from the carpet. In front of her lay their extensive movie collection, which she was busy sorting out in alphabetical order.

Garth and Roy were clattering away in the kitchen, trying and failing to generate snacks as quickly as Wally ate them. He wasn't called 'Kid Flash' for no reason.

"Get out of the way, you're blocking the T.V!"

Donna glared at Wally. "I'm trying to sort out the messes you always create."

"Hey!"

Dick rolled his eyes at his best friend's antics. He was just about to go help Garth and Roy when his phone buzzed in his pocket, almost knocking him clean off the couch.

"Whoa! Dude, you okay?" Wally rushed to Dick's side.

Robin laughed. "Yeesh, KF, I'm fine." He looked at the ID screen and his face split into a smile. "I gotta take this. Do you mind?"

As they left for the kitchen, Dick couldn't help but let his happiness bubble over. He'd been spending more and more time with the Titans, and a rare chance to talk to Bruce without Dick having to call him was more than welcome. He flipped the phone open.

"Hey," Dick began, "how's-"

"Where are you."

Robin flinched slightly at the tone of voice. "I'm at Titans Tower, like I said."

The silence between them grew oppressive.

"Like you said?"

"Oh what? Did I forget to tell you? I'm really sorry-"

"You're sorry? You could've been anywhere! I called your communicator!"

"My Titans communicator?"

A pause. "Our communicator, Dick."

"Oh. Well. I might have, um, left it somewhere-"

"You lost it?!"

Dick looked around nervously. "Um, B, you might want to keep it down-"

"No, I will not keep it down." Bruce sighed. "I didn't know where you were. What if something had happened? I thought... the silence..."

He gulped audibly. "I- I didn't mean to, I just misplaced it-"

"Come back here."

"What?"

"Come back here. Right. Now."

There was a groan from the kitchen as someone (probably Wally) dropped his pan onto the floor (or onto someone's foot). The loud string of swearing indicated it was the latter.

"Why do I have to come back?" Dick questioned, annoyance slipping into his voice.

"Because I said so."

"Because I said so?" Dick barked a laugh. "Maybe that worked when I was eight, but I'm not a child anymore." He paused. "Boss," he added, sarcasm dripping like honey.

"I don't have time for this." He sounded exasperated.

"No, neither do I. I have a team. I have another city! Why do you keep me on a leash? What are you afraid of?!"

"...You have five minutes," was the only reply.

Dick gritted his teeth. Anger filled him in his bones, because for god's sake he wasn't a little boy anymore, he wasn't going to listen, he wasn't going to go back-

But at once this thought was dismissed. Of course he was going to go back.

He always did.

But never, never like this.

"Bye, Batman," he spat. "I'll see you there."

He hung up, clenched his fist, and hurled the phone at the wall.

* * *

(Not good enough.)

He pressed his hands against his ears, which were ringing with fire.

(Did you deserve this?)

His back was against the wall. Rain fell, drops pattering onto the floor he sat on, the dirt swelling into the dark corners of the alleyway.

His own tears mixed in with the rain, like the sky was crying with him.

(Batman doesn't need a Robin.)

A sudden ringing broke the pit-pattering of the raindrops. Dick lunged for his phone, because maybe things weren't broken yet, maybe there was still something left for him.

"Bruce, god, I'm sorry, I don't hate you-"

"I'm afraid it's not Master Bruce," a voice interrupted.

Dick sucked in a breath, almost choking. "Alfred? Why... Bruce...?"

"Master Bruce is... busy." There was clear disdain in Alfred's voice. "I was checking in. You have a tendency to get yourself in very sticky situations, if I do recall correctly."

(You get yourself in trouble too much.)

Dick shook slightly with disappointment. He was grateful that Alfred called, but that meant Bruce didn't, and that was the only thing that mattered right then.

(Did you really think you mattered?)

"Alfred..." he hiccuped. "He said..."

"I am aware of what he said, Master Richard. But do keep in mind he hasn't slept for a while. He was angry. He didn't mean it."

(Don't you ever mean what you say?)

"Yes, he did. He did! If he didn't mean it he would be on the phone right now and he would be saying sorry, not you! Not you..."

There was a pause. "You of all people know he is not the best of decision makers. ...Come back, Master Richard. I will cook you those eggs that you like. I meant to cook it tonight, but..."

"...With the bacon?"

"With anything you'd like."

(You're still just a child.)

Dick cocked in his head in the darkness. He knew, somehow, that this was the breaking point.

Go back or move on.

But how could he go back, knowing what Bruce really thought of him?

(We were never equals.)

"Thanks, but..." He wiped his nose with his sleeve. "I'm not hungry."

Desperation was leaking in. "Please. Think about what you are doing. You cannot go this path alone."

(I work alone.)

"I was always alone," Dick whispered.

"Master Richard-"

"Goodbye, Alfred. Tell Bruce... tell Bruce I'm sorry..."

(Leave.)

"...But this was what he wanted, wasn't it?"

"No-"

Dick flipped the phone shut and leaned his head against the wall.

"Goodbye, Bruce," he whispered to the night.

As if the night had heard him, the rain stopped.

* * *

Amy Rohrbach looked at her new partner in confusion.

The bustle on the police station was at its normal pace, heightened just slightly by a recent double murder.

Had murders not happened every other week in Bludhaven, the pace might have been a bit quicker.

No one in the police force, of course, was as fast-paced and loud as Officer Dick Grayson. Renowned for having flirted with half of the policewomen (and men), she was initially wary of taking him on as her partner.

However, Dick Grayson was one of the very few people she knew that surprised her. Sure, he was loud, but in a sort-of charming and naive way.

Well, not exactly 'naive'. Years of being a cop had taught Amy that most people who seemed like that were the people who had seen the most. Sometimes, Dick did things that confused her.

Take now for instance.

"Are you going to pick that up?" she asked impatiently, after the fifth ring.

Dick took a while to respond. "...I..."

Amy frowned. For something to strike him speechless, usually something actually had to physically strike him. She peered at the contact ID.

"Who's 'Bruce'?"

As if gravity had suddenly multiplied, he slowly lifted up his hand and pressed 'ignore'.

"Nobody important," he shrugged. His voice was thick.

Amy paused, but then turned back to her work.

Whatever it was was probably 'complicated', and none of her business.

Despite this, a smile made its way onto her face. Just typical Dick Grayson.

Only a guy like him would have Batman for somebody's contact picture.

* * *

Jason swallowed hard as Bruce walked into the room.

"Jason."

"Uhh, hey, Bruce," he stammered. "How was your day?"

"What are you doing in my study?"

Jason waved the question away with a hand. "Pssh, who do you take me for, a troublemaker?"

Bruce folded his arms. "Jason..."

The newly adopted Jason Todd sighed, and held out Bruce's phone in an apologetic manner.

"I didn't mean to... I just..."

Bruce's brow furrowed. "Who did you call?"

"Um..."

The hesitation was enough for the World's Greatest Detective. Bruce sighed, and put his head in his hands.

"What did Dick say?" Bruce inquired, voice wavering.

Jason blinked. "Say? Oh, well, he didn't say anything. He didn't pick up."

A dead silence followed this. Jason's heartbeat pounded in his head, and he thought how stupid he was, screwing up, he was lucky enough someone like Bruce Wayne noticed him in the first place-

"Go do your homework."

The almost-teenager put his hands in his pocket. "Bruce, I am sorry."

"I know." Bruce smiled, a forced one, but with hints of truth. "I'll ask Alfred to cook you a chillidog once you're done."

Jason's face split into a grin. "Thanks, old man."

"Jason, I'm not even fifty."

"Wow, you're close? You are old."

He flashed his father a grin and hopped to the stairs, before pausing and turning around.

"You know... I'd never leave you. Ever," he stated.

Bruce smiled.

"I'm counting on it."

* * *

There was a knock on the door, but Bruce didn't hear it.

Neither did he hear Alfred's voice, calling for him to come out. Calling that it wasn't healthy to stay indoors and that people wanted to talk to him to say they were sorry and when are you going to finish the paperwork?

The paperwork was right in front of him.

Jason Todd. D-e-c-e-a-s-e-d.

Bruce didn't know if he spelt it right because any way he looked at it, it looked wrong.

"Master Bruce? Master Bruce, you left your phone outside. You have a message."

Bruce looked up slowly with eyes that were red from anger and sleeplessness and maybe other things he didn't want to think about. He thought about the reed he had seen in that warehouse- didn't know it was possible for children to bleed that much- and slowly got up to open the door.

"Alfred," he greeted hoarsely.

"Master Bruce," Alfred replied, eyes glancing over him. "You look... well."

He hadn't showered in a week.

"I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"This isn't just anyone, sir. It's Master Richard. Don't you want to hear what he has to say?"

And in his mind's eye he saw his son, but only when he last saw him, god, years ago?

It's been years?

Alfred slipped into the room, holding Bruce's phone out to him. His personal phone, the one that mattered. A message blared out.

"Hey, Bruce..." His voice had gotten deeper. Suddenly, and despairingly, Bruce realised Dick was no longer a child. "I just wanted to... check on you. I heard what happened. I'm... sorry? No, I know that's not what you want to hear. You did all you could, I'm sure of it. I'm in Blud right now but- I mean, if you wanted to- I'd come if you asked. If you asked, Bruce, not Alfred, I just- god. Call me back, will you? I'm still... I'm still here for you. Um. I guess that's all I wanted to say. Bye, Bruce, see you... soon, I hope." The message ended with a beep.

Alfred looked expectantly at his employer. Bruce, almost grudgingly, takes the phone from him and looks at it.

But as he looks at the phone he can only remember Dick as Robin, and can only remember Robin in that warehouse wearing that yellow cape splattered with red and no pants because 'acrobats only wear leotards, Bruce!' and 'better keep the outfit the same, old man. Let's pretend there's only one Robin, right?'

He can't bring himself to do anything so instead he slumps onto the floor, dropping the phone.

"Master Bruce!"

"Alfred, I can't... Not again..."

Alfred's face suddenly turned very pale. Then it flushed with rage.

"How many more of your sons have to die before you learn to appreciate them?!"

He snatched the phone up, took a deep breath, and stalked away, leaving behind Bruce on the floor, alone.

* * *

Tim fidgeted with his tie nervously. Despite the fact that he'd grown up with balls and fancy meetings and the like, he'd never felt at home here.

Dick understood. How could he not? He'd been doing this for more than a decade, and it still felt like an act.

Well. He had had a little break in between. But Wayne Manor had been the same as ever when he returned, now with a new little brother he wasn't going to lose.

"Stop fidgeting," he laughed. "You look adorable enough."

Tim blushed. "I'm not adorable, Dick. And don't laugh so loud. They'll notice us!"

Dick gently pried Tim's hands off his tie, making Tim instinctively latch on to Dick's sleeve.

"You see Bruce anywhere?" Tim whispered.

Dick rolled his eyes. "Who knows where Brucie Wayne is? He disappears faster than Batman."

This produced a giggle from Tim, who was now scanning the room with his keen bright eyes.

Dick wondered softly if Bruce was watching them. They'd never had a chance to talk outside of their masks, what with everything going on. He'd like a chance to explain things, to himself and to Bruce.

To try to understand where things had gone wrong. Because, heaven knows, they had.

An opportunity presented itself unexpectedly. Dick and Tim headed to the snack bar, where in the midst of all this fancy food that nobody ate where little snacks Alfred had placed just for them. Tim grabbed a hotdog while Dick was content cramming french fries in his face.

"Enjoying the party?"

By the way Tim's face lit up, Dick didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"The party's just great," Dick grinned, "but I still think the disco ball's a great idea."

Bruce's face shifted slightly, and a pit of fear sank into Dick's stomach. What was that? Disappointment? Anger?

"I'll, uh... my parents are waiting," Tim said shyly, and slinked away.

Dick didn't know where to put his hands. He didn't know where to look.

"Dick," Bruce growled, well, not growling, but Dick imagined him growling.

"Bruce," Dick replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Bruce idly looked him over. Once again, Dick tried to guess what he was thinking. Why did he need to guess?

It used to be so easy. Everything used to be so easy.

"How are things?"

"Hmm? Oh, you know, things are good. As usual. In both my jobs, if you were wondering- I don't know if you were-"

"You look well."

"You, too. Not that you didn't look great before. I mean, oh gosh, that came out weird-"

And Bruce let out a laugh, and Dick didn't have to guess what that meant, because it was the same laughter that accompanied everything he did back when he was eight.

"Sorry about rambling," Dick said, rubbing his head. "Just feel like I haven't seen you in ages. I mean us. Bruce and Dick."

"Yeah," Bruce agreed. The tone was sad.

"...But I'm here now! And, um, food's great as usual. Alf is amazing."

"Some things never change, huh?"

"Some things never change..."

Bruce paused, as if contemplating something. His hands clenched together. "I was thinking... There's going to be a charity ball soon... your room is free. And it must be bothersome driving from Bludhaven to Gotham-"

"Are you asking me to stay with you?"

"...I'm just asking you to stay."

Dick's heart felt full to burst. He was happy- immensely so- but he just couldn't. He had a life back at Bludhaven, and he needed to live it.

"I'm really glad you asked- like, really, really glad- but the drive from 'Haven's not that far, and I do have a day-job to keep."

"Right. As a cop."

Dick frowned at Bruce's tone. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Bruce said smoothly.

"It's not nothing." Dick's voice rose slightly. "I can tell when you're not happy with me."

"It's not like that, Dick. I would have preferred you choose another profession-"

"Like what you think matters to me."

There was a flash of anger in his former mentor's eyes. "If you didn't care, why did you come back here?"

"Why? Oh, I don't know! Maybe I wanted you to stop being a total jerk for once and talk to me?! Maybe I just wanted to fix things!? Maybe I thought, for once, you'd change!"

Bruce looked at him, eyes devoid of emotion. Dick's breath hitched, but for god's sake he was not afraid of Bruce Wayne, and never would be.

"Are you going to ask me to leave again?"

"No." Bruce gritted his teeth. "But if you do, don't come back."

Dick's fury was piling, and his heart was deflating, until he couldn't take it anymore. There was nothing left for him here.

"I hope you die," he seethed.

Dick stalked away, aware of the thousand pair of eyes trained on him. But he didn't care.

When it came to not caring, he learned from the best.

* * *

It's all the same.

The table, the telephone, the paintings on the walls. The last time he had ever been here, what had he said?

'I hope you die.'

I hope you die. He hoped Bruce died.

He was very good at hoping, you see.

"Grayson!" Damian sneered at the first Robin. "Must you dawdle? I wish to make my way to the Batcave, as is my legacy!"

Legacy. Bruce had left a legacy, in him, in all of them, he trusted them, and what had he said? Oh right-

'I hope you die.'

"Dami, slow down," Dick sighed.

Damian stamped his foot indignantly. "Dami-an. You are a bigger fool than I thought if you do not know my name."

"It's just a nickname, little D."

"A nickname. How childish, like you. I wonder what Father ever saw in you."

Dick's heart clenched and did a quadruple somersault right in his ribcage.

Out of habit- or perhaps for comfort- he felt inside his pocket for that 'very special' phone, with the engraved T.W on it that reminded him everything he had had belonged to someone else, once.

He felt for it, but came up with nothing but air. A frown. Now rummaging, pockets in his jackets, pants, where would he have-

"Grayson?" Damian crossed his arms. "What are you doing?"

"I- I can't- I can't find it. I can't find it." Dick was losing breath.

A flicker of concern passed across Damian's face. "Cannot find what? Did you misplace your utility belt, or-?"

"My phone. My very special phone, my only phone what if Bruce calls me what do I do-"

Damian was biting his lip, until he noticed, then he stopped. "Grayson. Father is dead. I know... I know you had... a bond," he phrased carefully, keeping the jealousy below the surface, "but Father is dead and not here and dead people cannot call you."

"But he promised." Dick sounded like a child, even to him. Like an eight year old boy who had just lost his world. "He said 'no matter the distance between us'. No matter the distance! He's not gone, only far away! And he's going to call me, but I can't find- I can't find my phone-"

Dick broke down into tears. He wasn't aware of sinking until his knees hit the floor, cold and tiled. He couldn't feel Damian pulling at his arm, calling him to 'get up, Grayson, you may not be much but you're all I've got.'

Saying 'for god's sake what did that phone mean to you?'

And 'wait a minute- it's right here! You dropped it, Grayson- typical of you. Will you get up now?'

Dick looked up. Damian was holding out his phone towards him, and for the first Dick saw Bruce in him.

And he pulled Damian into a hug. Groaning, the young assassin struggled in Dick's death grip.

"What are you doing?" he huffed. "This is not an effective way of incapacitating your enemies."

"I'm not incapacitating my enemies. I'm showing you I love you."

"Oh. Yes- right." Damian was blushing.

Dick pulled away slowly, and regarded the phone in his hands. Bruce was dead. He thought... maybe he didn't need it anymore.

"Hey," Dick said, voice only trembling slightly, "here."

"What's this?"

Dick laughed at Damian's question. "It's my... very special phone, little D. And now it's yours. So... no matter the distance between us... you'll always have a way to find me."

Damian took the phone and turned it around.

"Always is a long time," he said quietly.

"Yeah," Dick agreed. "A long time."

"So... are we heading towards the Batcave, or are you going to have another breakdown?"

Dick's laughter echoed down the corridors of Wayne Manor.

It was the beginning of a new adventure.

* * *

 **Wow. So, this is a looong chapter/story, and I have to say it took me waaaay longer than I expected. But I had fun writing it, and I hope you also enjoyed reading it! Make sure to like/follow/review! If you do review, tell me which snippet is your favourite, and also do you think I should write an epilogue? (This will center around Bruce's resurrection and whatnot.) Thanks so much for your time!**


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